Platonic
by ShellGrad
Summary: "...because a kiss with you could never be platonic..."


**Disclaimer: I don't own it.**

**Slightly different from my other stories but romantic nonetheless, in my opinion. Enjoy!**

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Platonic

"I do have a question though." Lisbon turned to Jane, sitting beside her on the couch. It had become a bit of a routine now. He'd come over to her apartment on days they didn't have a case and watch tv with her until she fell asleep. They'd always sit there and just watch, not talking unless it was about the program. It was a tradition Lisbon felt compelled to break, her question burning her brain and refusing to be stored in her unconscious.

Jane nonchalantly turned his attention to her, not seeming at all nervous about whatever question she may have had. "Fire away."

"What's with the kisses?" He furrowed his brow slightly in confusion but she continued before he could ask anything. "Seriously. You kissed Hightower and Sophie Miller on the cheek yet you claim to have no intimate feelings for them."

"Meh, those were platonic."

She ignored his interruption. "I mean, I would understand a little had you kissed Kristina Frye."

"Who says I didn't?" he teased, his smile only faltering a centimeter when he realized she wasn't even hearing his interruptions and decided it was best to continue to let her ramble.

"And to be honest, I'd be a little disappointed in you if you kissed Erica Flynn."

"Why?" He couldn't help but ask. Her disappointment in something he'd already done (albeit, something she didn't know he'd done) wounded him a little.

"I also understand Lorelai since you had a bit of a crush on her. But, seriously, is the kissing thing just leftover from the playboy Jane that I got to see when you'd completely forgotten who you were?" She looked at him, exasperated. So now he was supposed to answer. He considered repeating his earlier responses but decided to get to the crux of the matter instead.

"What is this really about, Lisbon? This is your birthday all over again, isn't it? Someone's feeling a little left out because the popular guy is kissing all the girls except you." He smiled as he teased, expecting her pretty blush to return.

He was more than a little disappointed when the blush didn't come."Go screw yourself," she huffed, crossing her arms across her chest and turning her attention to the tv.

Jane reached over and grabbed the remote, turning the tv off before facing her. "Lisbon, I never kissed Kristina Frye."

"It's none of my business," she commented as she got up and headed to her kitchen. He was relieved to see she was no longer angry and actually seemed a bit relieved that he hadn't kissed the proclaimed psychic.

he stood and followed her. "I _did_ kiss Erica Flynn. Well, technically, she kissed me but still."

"Why," Lisbon grumbled under her breath as she reached for a cup to make them tea.

He put the cup back and closed the cupboard, earning him a huff of irritation from the woman beside him. "Because I'm irresistibly handsome and charming," he answered with a megawatt smile, laughing softly when he received a scowl in response. "What are you so worried about? Erica is long gone and I assure you she won't be coming back. Ever if she did, I most likely wouldn't have a relationship with her."

"Oh, yeah? And why is that?" she retorted.

He hesitated as he tried to decide how much to tell her. "After Erica kissed me, I saw a different face where hers was supposed to be for a few seconds."

"Your wife." It wasn't a question.

"Yes and no."

She chuckled slightly, despite herself. "How is that _not_ an either/or question?"

"I did see my wife's face." He paused for a beat. "But my wife didn't have green eyes."

The wide eyes and soft gasp would have been comical had it not been for his near admission. "What?" she asked, her voice strangled.

"My wife. She had blue eyes. So, as odd as it seems, I didn't feel as if I was cheating on my wife alone. Apparently, some part of me felt like I was cheating on someone else in my life that I cared deeply about."

"I don't suppose your daughter had green eyes, did she?" Lisbon tried to ask lightheartedly, sounding slightly sad instead.

He shook his head slightly with a sad smile. "No."

"And with Lorelai?" She asked with bated breath.

"The guilt subsided. I've finally grieved properly, as the doctors would say. Things were great with Lorelai but there was always something a little off."

"Green eyes?" Lisbon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes. Oh, I know you don't believe me but it's true. Lorelai had brown eyes but more often than I'd like, I'd pull away after a kiss to see those same green eyes haunting me."

"So, whose green eyes are haunting the great Patrick Jane?"

He suppressed a smile at her teasing and overly dramatic tone. "You _really_ don't know the answer to that question?" He looked at her disbelievingly. "To answer your earlier question, Teresa, you've never received a kiss because a kiss with you could never be platonic and I wasn't ready for the type of relationship that I would have with you. I needed to sort out some things first and I wouldn't let you be collateral damage."

"Those other girls were just collateral damage?"

"Kristina and Erica were. I like to think of Lorelai as more of the perfect stepping stone to where you and I are now."

"And where are we now?" She mentally hit herself for sounding like cliche romantic movie.

"Well, that's the million dollar question now, isn't it?" He asked as he stood in front of her, a miniscule sliver of space between their bodies.

It was her move. She looked up at him with her gorgeous green eyes and took a breath before placing both her palms on his vest, causing him to instinctively wrap his arms around her waist and pull her close. "What is it with guys? Have to try all the wrong decisions before you figure out the right one?"* she asked quietly.

"Just had to make sure I was ready for the right decision." He brought a hand up to cup her cheek and moved his thumb back and forth from her soft skin to her silky hair. "There wasn't a chance I was going to screw this up. You mean too much to me for that."

"And are you ready?" she whispered, swallowing around the lump in her throat.

"I've never been more ready in my life," he answered, staring intently into her eyes. "But if you need some time, I under- " It took him a millisecond to respond to the soft lips that had cut him off, but once he did, he was never going to let go. The spark and passion underlying that first kiss affirmed what he'd said before: kissing Teresa Lisbon could never be platonic.

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*adapted from a line in the movie Sweet Home Alabama


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